


stolen bases

by flutter_bi



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutter_bi/pseuds/flutter_bi
Summary: A collection of one shots for Pitch featuring, predominantly, Ginny x Mike.





	1. Were you sleeping? / Is that my sweater?

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is for [commnderlexa](http://commnderlexa.tumblr.com/) who asked for prompts 12 and 23. Sorry, I put a little twist on 23 and changed it from "Is that my shirt?" to "Is that my sweater?"

He looked...sweet. Almost. In sleep the semi-permanent scowl was gone leaving the muscles of Mike’s face relaxed and accentuating his round, apple cheeks, which were red from spending the day in the sun playing with Gabe, Marcus, and the other Padres’ kids. 

Ginny couldn’t say why she’d chosen to stay behind after Mike dozed off and everyone else decided it was time to leave his house. She knew what she told them, he needed someone to wake him up and make sure he dragged his old bones back to bed so he’d be ready for their flight to DC the next day.

Livan had muttered something unflattering under his breath, even after he spent a good portion of his day tossing their teammates’ kids across the pool with Mike, but it was the sad, puppy dog look from Robles and Evelyn’s manic grin that kept running through her head.

What did they think was going to happen? Passionate coupling in his backyard after a day spent tossing around 50lb kids? Even if they did have the secret relationship going that Evelyn wanted to believe they did, she doubted that Mike had the flexibility left in his joints to do much more than climb up the stairs and into his bed. 

Though as she looked down at his wide, expansive thighs (covered with adorable freckles) and muscular six pack that some - who clearly hadn’t seen him up close or been thrown around a pool by him - said had run to fat, she suspected that given the right motivation he could rise to the occasion. So to speak.

And she couldn’t indulge in this...this fantasy. She was just hard-up, at least that’s what Ginny told herself. It had been nearly two months since she had anyone other than herself to get her off and even then it was a one night stand with a guy who was more fan than fantasy, and the responding orgasm had been a quick release with no real finesse or feelings involved. Not exactly her thing.

But she could see Mike being her thing. 

She cocked her head to the side, her curls falling in her eyes as she watched him stretch out in his sleep. His thigh muscles bunched and tightened and the sweet look on his face transformed into a grimace as he grunted and shifted, his weight teetering on the edge of the couch. Without thinking she reached out to push him back over. 

And she was fucked. 

The moment her skin made contact with his she knew she should pull back, but he was so warm. That was one of the many reasons she liked sitting next to him when they traveled. Where her body absorbed and stored cold, his was all emanating heat and shared warmth. He constantly complained that he could feel her sapping the energy from his body, but neither of them ever considered moving, even at the height of the awkward Noah/Rachel/Boardner’s debacle. Even after she dumped Noah two weeks after Mike separated from Rachel again and everyone was sure the two things were connected, while ignoring that they both also happened to take place right before the start of spring training.

But what she was feeling now was more than just his normal warmth. 

She let her fingertips to play along the ridges of his stomach and work their way up to the freckles at his chest and neck - they were like constellations. The myths of Mike Lawson written all over his body. 

And who would he be, she wondered. Zeus, who fucked everything that moved; Hades, condemned to spend his life locked in darkness and regret. Or maybe not a god at all. Maybe Icarus who flew to close to the sun, or Atlas, sentenced to spend his life holding up the sky. 

Or maybe she’d had one too many drinks and she needed to step away from the situation before she did something she couldn’t take back. 

One last touch though, that was all she wanted as she reached for his lips, the tan tint of her skin contrasting with the peach of his lips and the dark hair of his mustache and beard. They’d look good together, she figured, as she traced the line of his mouth under his thick mustache. 

“You know sexual harassment is a thing women can get in trouble for too, right?” He laughed as she jerked back and smacked herself in the face trying to pull away. She sputtered for a moment and then pinned him with that adorable pissed off look she only pulled when she was trying to cover for something. The one where her nose scrunched in her dimples popped, and he mostly let her get away with the shit she pulled just because it meant that he got to see that particular look. 

“Jesus! What is wrong with you?”

“Me?” He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the couch so he could lean back into it and study her. “I’m not the one molesting people in their sleep.” 

“Oh, were you sleeping? I thought maybe you’d slipped into a coma so I was trying to wake you up. Do you know your guests are gone?” 

“You’re still here.” He pointed out as she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “How were you planning to wake me up? By violating my mouth?”

“I was checking to see if you were still breathing, Lawson. You know old people die and their sleep sometimes.” 

His eyebrows shot up and the force of his laugh sent shivers up her spine...she wanted to say it was shock, but the answering clinch of her thighs told her it was definitely something else. 

“You’re full of it, Rookie. You were totally copping a feel. Just admit it.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Then why’d you start with my stomach and work your way up? I guess I should be happy you didn’t work your way down instead.” He obviously shifted his legs and gave her a quick wink. 

“Get over yourself, and if you were awake all that time why didn’t you stop me?”

“Curiosity.” 

“My dad used to tell me that curiosity killed the cat.”

“My mom always told me satisfaction brought it back.”

She let loose that ridiculous thundering laugh and he’d be damned if it didn’t make him want to kiss the answering smirk off her lips, but she must have noticed him staring because she straightened and starting pulling at the Padres sweater that was falling off her right shoulder at the neck and skimming just below her knees at the bottom. 

He started to ask her where she’d been keeping that since all he remembered her wearing when she showed up at his door was jean shorts that had to have been two sizes too small as he could see the pockets hanging out the front and a sleeveless tank, but then he caught the small white spot on the bottom where - if he was right about who the sweater belonged to - his cleaning lady had accidentally spilled bleach. 

“Is that my sweater, Rookie?”

“Oh. Um.” Ginny shifted from one foot to the other and absently tugged at her bottom lip. “Yeah. Livan threw my clothes in the pool and I was cold. This was hanging up by the door. I can..” She unzipped it and started to pull it off, but stopped short when he shook his head and reached out for her. 

Mike played with the zipper of the sweater to keep his hands occupied as she carefully stepped towards him. His mind was doing enough wandering on its own and if he started adding other body parts to the mix then things were going to get even more awkward than they already were. But damn, the last thing he wanted after spending the day with her wet and playful was to see her in his clothes. Of course now that he’d seen her in the sweater he figured the one thing he might want less was to see her take it off. 

“Nah.” He reached up and pulled the top back over her shoulders. “Looks good on you.” 

She didn’t know what to do with her hands. His seemed comfortable enough toying with the bottom of the sweater, but the longer he held on the more sure she was that she didn’t want him to let go. She had to do something though, say something. “Mike, I…”

“Don’t.” His voice sounded desperate, even to his own ears. “It’s...we’re not talking about this, right?”

“Yeah, but.”

“Ginny, we’re either talking about this or we’re not. I can’t…” He closed his eyes, leaned into her close enough for the whiskers of his beard to ghost over the tender skin of her stomach. “I don’t want to half-ass this. So we can talk about it now, like adults, or we can not talk about it like teammates. I can’t do both.” 

And truth be told, she couldn’t either. Not talking about it had gotten them here, again. Too close for comfort and still too far away to be able to act on what they were feeling, but talking about it. That could be worse. So much worse. “I’m gonna say something. The therapist says I’m supposed to speak my mind and stop holding things in...she says that’s when I get in trouble.” She laughed humorlessly, “That’s when I end up in a stranger’s bathtub crying like an idiot child.” 

“What?” 

He seemed genuinely baffled and that was the first time it occurred to her that he hadn’t been fully briefed on the debacle that was the Nike party. Huh. “Nothing, just. I’m supposed to say what I’m feeling now, that’s all.” 

“Well then, carry on.” 

He was still leaning into her, close enough that she could feels his lips move into a smile when she reached down to run her hands through his hair. She couldn’t see his face, and maybe that was for the best, because it probably would have stopped her from carrying on. 

“I think...I think this is probably a bad idea and that we shouldn’t do it.” She latched onto his hair a little tighter to hold him in place when he tried to pull away. “But I thought not talking about it was a good idea too and here we are again so maybe I’ve got shit judgement. Although you probably do too so I don’t know where that leaves us. Either way this isn’t going away and I think maybe not talking about it is going to be worse than talking about it, and I don’t want that to happen either. So.” 

“So.” 

He finally looked up at her, humor shining in his eyes and a small smile on his lips, and she hated and loved that look in equal measure. She hated it because it meant that he thought he knew something that she didn’t, but she loved it because he was usually right and the learning experience was almost always worth listening to him gloat for a few hours. So… “What? Spit it out, Lawson.”

“I like this swimming suit.” His arms were up and around her waist before she knew what was happening and, damn, she forgot how strong he was until he held her tight to him and leaned back so she had to stand between his legs. “It’s a good suit.”

“Agreed. That’s why I’m wearing it, what do this have to do with--”

“Don’t interrupt, Rookie.” He wanted to tell her that if she knew just what the scowl did to him, she probably wouldn’t use it so often, but figured that was probably counterintuitive to his current goal. “Want to know what I like best about it?”

“Not really, but you’re probably going to tell me anyway.”

“I am.” He ran his hands over the smooth, soft skin of her hips and delighted in the tremble he felt run through her body. He moved higher and higher to trace the design of peaches covering the bikini top. “This. I really love this. I mean the whole thing works, the razor back, the black bottoms resting low on your hips, but this part really works.” 

Ginny let her head fall back as he traced the outline of one of the peaches under her arm. It shouldn’t have felt so intimate. It wasn’t like he was running those damn clever fingers over her nipples or anything, but still she felt her inner walls clench down on nothing and the breath left her lungs in a strong, steady stream. “Mike…” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Well, fuck. “We’re, um, we’re supposed to be talking.” 

“Nope. I decided that tonight’s not for talking.” 

“We’re not having sex.” And she was firm on that...mostly...probably. As long as he didn’t touch her anywhere else or, really, do anything else. At all.

“You’re right. We’re not.”

“Right, we’re not.” She shook her head when she meant to nod in agreement and it took a full ten seconds for her to catch on to what he said. “We’re not?”

“No.” He let his hands trace down her sides and fall off at her hips as he levered himself up and his knees cracked and his back popped. “Definitely not, but we are going to bed.”

“But...” Ginny sputtered for a moment and then she took a step back and immediately felt the loss of his warmth. “I don’t...why?”

“First, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly working at optimal capacity here.” He gestured to his knees and turned to the side so she could hear his back pop again. “Gotta be able to participate for it to be good.” 

“And second.”

“Second, we’re not there yet.” He zipped the sweater she was wearing back up and then took a step back to examine her. “You’re always all or nothing, Baker. And it occurs to me that you need to learn to do things halfway sometimes. Some things, and I know this is going to sound crazy coming from me, but some things really are better after you wait for them.”

“But you didn’t want to wait.”

“I didn’t want to wait to admit this was happening. I didn’t want you to pull away every time we get close, but - and it really kills me to say this - that doesn’t mean I have to do everything I’ve been dreaming about doing for months right now. We can admit this is happening and still go slow.”

Ginny thought about that for a second, thought about having sex with Trevor in his truck after that first date and about Noah offering to take her on a trip around the world after their first night together. “So I stay here tonight and we sleep and then tomorrow…” She shrugged thoughtfully as the pieces all fell into place in her head. “Tomorrow we just get up and get ready and that’s all?”

“That’s all. We’ve got time to fight about this and discuss it and break it into little pieces and examine it later. Tonight, we just sleep. Okay?”

She thought about it for a second and then stepped forward to grab his hand to pull him towards the door. “Yeah. Okay.” 

“One thing though,” he wrapped his arms around her neck and angled his legs so his was stepping outside of hers as they made their way in the house. “The left side of the bed is mine.”

“Which side is closer to the door?”

“Left.” 

“Fine. If one of your groupies breaks into your glass house to kill you then you’ll be closer to the door.”

“Cold, Rookie. Stone cold.”


	2. It’s just a cut. I’m fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of one shots for Pitch featuring, predominantly, Ginny x Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is for the Anon who requested #25. It's just a cut. I'm fine. 
> 
> This chapter started out mostly about Ginny getting hurt and Mike being there for her, but at some point I just kept getting stuck, and so I shifted the focus a bit as the story progressed to some of Mike’s family-related issues.

Sonofabitch. Stupid, self-centered, jackass sonofabitch. That’s what Mike Lawson was.

And this was all his damn fault.

“Shit, Ginny. Shit. You need to stop. You need--fuck.” Sonny was trailing behind her with a Padres towel, trying to hand it to her to staunch the bleeding. He hadn’t noticed her pick-up the dish towel off the counter and wrap it around her left hand after she dropped the knife on a hiss.

“It’s just a cut. I’m fine.”

“You’re not…” he trailed off for a second and yanked Livan, who had been taking a call in the hallway, along with them as he followed along behind Ginny. “Go get Skip. Tell him Ginny cut herself. Then get the first doctor you can find.”

“Jesus, _Mami_.” Livan fell in step beside them and tried to take hold of her hand, but she yanked it away and nearly bashed her elbow on the wall.

“I’m fine.” She huffed as she stopped short of entering the clubhouse locker room to keep the rest of the team from seeing her. Warily, she started to unwrap the towel before Sonny’s hands covered hers and he nodded to Livan once again.

“Get Skip. Now.” As Livan took off across the room Sonny gingerly released her hand, but kept his eyes focused on her. “Don’t take it off until someone tells you to. I’m not kidding, Rookie.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Not a rookie, and I haven’t been for more than two years. Anyway, since when do you call me that.”

“Since you’re acting like one. Running around breaking glasses in your hand.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” God, that sounded like a childish whine even to her own ears and Sonny must have noticed it to because he just raised his eyebrows and glared at her.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t make it better, She-Hulk. What happened?”

She started to reach up to scratch at some imaginary itch on her shoulder and remembered that he had just told her to keep the towel wrapped around her hand. “Nothin’.”

“Yeah. Nothin’. So was it the gossip report?”

“What gossip report?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Baker. The report that Salvi’s had running all morning talking about our ex-catcher and the blonde he’s been seen out with. There was a time that wouldn’t be all that interesting, but since he retired…” Sonny trailed off and pinned her with a knowing stare.

“Why should I care he’s doing? He’s retired and allowed to do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. Not my problem.”

“Yeah? Guess I lost the bet then.”

“What bet?”

“I had you two married within two years of him retiring.”

“Are you--” She trailed off for a moment, laughed. “Are kidding me? You guys bet on us?”

“We bet on everything, Baker. You know that. Anyway, there are tons of them. When ya’ll will have kids. How many? I’ve got one girl in five years.”

“You’re lying. You’re just trying to take my mind off my hand.”

“Am not. Anyway, here comes Skip.”

\----------------------------------

When there was a knock at her locker room door nearly six hours later she was sitting with her hand carefully bandaged, silently lamenting the three-to-one loss against the Rockies, and cursing herself for being dumb enough to get injured on a day she was supposed to start.

Blip, Sonny, and Savli -- who already apologized like a million times for letting the gossip report run all day -- had already tried to talk to her so she figured that it was probably Livan’s turn. “I’m okay. I don’t want to do the ‘Mami, everything will be fine’ thing right now. Go away.”

The door opened anyway and she started to laugh at Livan’s inherent need to do the opposite of what he was told when the beard, of all things, caught her attention. Definitely not Livan.

“Who let you back here?”

Mike laughed and casually leaned against the door jamb as if he owned the place. As if he was still the captain of the Padres and not a civilian asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. (Not that, that was any of her business.) “I used to work here, Rookie. I’ve got connections.”

“You screw the cleaning lady too?”

“The cleaning lady is a team of like fifty men, Baker. That’s sexist, and anyway, not even I have that sort of stamina.”

“Really. Never stopped you before.”

“Well, I’m not the man I used to be.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

He ignored the jab and nodded to her hand. “What’s the prognosis? Is it a career-ender?”

Her eyes narrowed and then rolled. Blip, the traitor, must of already talked to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so flippant asking about it. “No. It’s superficial. Dr. Rohm says I’ll probably only have to miss this game...maybe the next if it heals slow. Oscar’s handling the press release right now. He didn’t want to make the announcement right after the game because they were worried people would think I could have played and chose not to.”

She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but he could see the annoyance shining behind the feigned indifference. “We lost a game we should have won. My fault.”

“Bullshit. It was an accident.”

“A stupid accident. If I hadn’t…” She trailed off and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. “There’s just no excuse.”

“Yeah…” No excuse for his behavior or hers, he wondered. “You wanna talk about this?”

“About what?”

“Goddamn,” he laughed, but she could tell from the tone it was more annoyance bubbling over than actual amusement. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. Are you not even going to ask?”

“Would it make you feel better if I did? Ginny Baker still panting after Mike Lawson even though you’ve all but ignored me in the eight months since you retired, but you got your ring, right? And that’s all you really needed.”

“We did weeks of press together and I tried to talk to you. I called you after the final curtain call and tried to talk to you. How long was I supposed to wait?”

“Apparently not that long since you disappeared off the face of the planet after that and didn’t show back up until two months ago. I guess I should be impressed it took you this long to be seen out with someone.”

“She's my sister.”

He said it so matter of fact that for a moment she wondered if he was just searching for a joke to ease the tension in the room, but the look on his face wasn’t amusement. He was serious. “You don't have a sister.”

“You know I do, Gin.”

“I…” She stopped for a moment and shuffled through her memories of Mike Lawson - everything she knew about him. Everything she thought she knew about him. It wasn’t until she zeroed in on one night when they were talking about Will and how hard it must have been for him to be “The Ginny Baker’s” older brother that she figured out what he was talking about. “Your father? She’s his daughter?”

He scrubbed his hands down his face. “Yep.”

“That’s...Shit, Mike. That’s…” What was she supposed to say here? She wasn’t sure of the proper congratulations you’ve connected with your dead-beat dad’s other kids etiquette.

And goddamn, suddenly she realized just how weary he looked. She reached for the extra chair she kept in her locker room and shoved it in his general direction, “Sit down.”

“Yeah?” His face lit up in a surprised smile that reminded her of a little boy.

“Yeah. Sit. Talk to me.”

“So you’re not mad anymore?” He asked as he dropped into the chair.

“Not about this...about other things though so don’t get too comfortable on my good side.”

“Of course not. What do you want to know?”

“Everything. How did you find her? Why did you find her? Have you talked to him...your father? I mean, geez Mike, this is huge.”

“I didn’t find her,” he leaned forward so his elbows could rest on his knees and she matched his position so their faces were maybe a foot apart as he relayed the story. “She found me. After we got back from all the World Series press stuff my agent said some woman called claiming to be my sister and that she waited until I retired to reach out so I’d know it wasn’t about, you know, about me being Mike Lawson.”

“And that was her? Your sister.”

“Yeah. She said--she said she’s known for about ten years. Caught her parents fighting about it right before they split up. At first she didn’t want anything to do with me and then her mom died of breast cancer a couple years back, and I guess she started thinking about the fact that she had another brother out there in the world.

“She’s, uh, she’s nice. She’s a nurse and her husband is a lawyer. They’ve got a couple of kids -- a boy and a girl.”

“So you’re Uncle Mike now?”

“Hey,” he feigned offense. “I’ve been Uncle Mike for years, Rookie. Don’t you forget it.”

Ginny laughed. Thought about Marcus and Gabe and how much he loved them and how great he was with them. And then she thought about how sometimes when all the team families were spending time together hanging out he’d look so damn lost and alone. “Never. So, what else?”

“What else do you want to know?”

She started to say everything, but there was something else there, hidden under the happiness. And it made her wonder… “What about your father?”

“What about him?”

“Mike,” she reached out and took his large hands in her own smaller ones. She gently rubbed calluses that were probably permanent fixtures on the sides of his fingers and waited until his temper was smothered before nodding her head to urge him to continue.

“Haven’t seen him. His other son either. We were waiting and then I got careless after we had dinner the other night to discuss it, and now...I don’t know. She’s good, but her brother is pissed off. Which, you know, makes sense. Right?”

Her brother. She wondered if he even realized he created that separation between his sister’s family and his own. “I guess. Maybe. How are you doing with all of this?”

“You know me, always easy going.” He turned her hands over in his and ran his fingers over the bandage on her palm. “Does it hurt?”

“Nope. How about you?”

He dropped his head and whispered his response, “Little bit.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Don’t be mad at me, Gin. I screwed up, okay? I didn’t give you time and a ran away, but just...don’t tell me I lost my chance.”

“Look at me.” She waited for him to look her in the eyes. “I am mad. You did screw up and if you’d come and talked to me then you would have realized that I just wanted to wait for all the media attention to die down. But I could have come to you too. So that’s on me. You didn’t lose your chance though. I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Where else would I be?”

“I bet Drake is still interested.”

She laughed and stood up, yanked him up with her. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Uh huh?”

“A great idea. You take me out tonight. Maybe subtly let your hand fall around my waist. Hold my hand at the dinner table, and take some of the pressure off of your new sister’s shoulders so people aren’t stalking her everywhere she goes. How’s that sound?”

His narrowed and he shook his head. “You don’t want to talk to Amelia about this?”

“Why? You think she wants to come too. I mean, it might be a little awkward have your new girlfriend out with an old girlfriend, and I don’t think Oscar would appreciate it, but if that’s how you want to play it…”

“Ginny,” he pulled her around. Framed her face in his hands. “I’m serious. This is a lot and I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

“I’ve been ready for months, Old Man.” She leaned forward and let her lips drift over his for a moment before tilting her head and lightly kissing the corners of his mouth.

When she started to step back he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her forward. He let his mouth linger over hers for a moment to give her time to pull away and when she didn’t he leaned forward and press his lips to hers. It only took a moment for her to open her mouth and a moment longer for him to deepen the kiss, exploring the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the texture of her tongue with his before he pulled back.

“So…” He was as out of breath as he had been after his first kiss and felt slightly embarrassed about it. “You said something about making out with you at a dinner table and talking you into coming over to my place tonight, right?”

She grinned as she pulled away and walked towards the door, “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said, but you can keep dreaming.”

He followed behind her, watched intently as her calf muscles, thighs, and glutes tightened and untightened under her stretch pants as she took each step. “Oh, I will.”

Her groan floated back towards him as she turned the corner and without her there to distract him momentarily he focused back in on something else she said. “Hey,” he called after her as she quickened her pace, dancing away from his roaming hands, “why would Oscar care if I took out Amelia.”

He was pretty sure her answering laugh carried through the whole damn clubhouse and it didn’t stop until they were nearly out to his car.


	3. So...what do we do now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of one shots for Pitch featuring, predominantly, Ginny x Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the Anon who requested #37. So...what do we do now? 
> 
> Sorry about the delay on this one. Life has been...stressful lately. Hopefully in the next few weeks I'll get information that will calm it down a little, but until then I've kind of been on edge and that's not real conducive to writing.

_The Test - May 2018_  
When he finally musters the courage to ignore the closed door, he finds Ginny sitting on the bathroom floor, legs crossed, back straight, hands resting in her lap. The fact that she’s holding a pregnancy test should be a surprise, but it isn’t. Not really.

Happiness, particularly his happiness, always seems to come with conditions. So why would this be any different?

He hesitates for just a moment before sliding down next to her and taking the test out of her hands. Now that he’s closer he can see where she’s tried to rub the evidence of tears from her cheeks. She’s breathing slowly, carefully. He has a moment to wonder if he missed a panic attack before she says, “So...what do we do now?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? But what right does he have to answer it?

He wants children, has almost always wanted them and imagined himself being the parent that his mother and father could never be, but not like this. Not when it could mean the end of her career and the end of everything she’s worked for. “I don’t know...your choice, baby. What do you want to do?”

She nods at him like she does when she’s considering shaking off one of his calls -- there’s a thoughtful, defiant look on her face and he wonders what it is exactly she’s gearing up to fight with him about. He told her it was her choice, despite that fact that it broke his heart to say it. What more can he do?

“My choice, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” He’s looking down so he sees her thigh muscles tense she pulls her feet up to her knees and stands up. After she’s up, she turns around and reaches a hand out to him, pulls him along with her. When they’re face to face -- eye to eye, nose to nose, mouth to mouth -- she speaks. “I’m keeping it.”

There’s another nod -- decision made -- before she walks out of the tiny hotel bathroom and leaves him smiling after her.

He’s gonna be a father.

*************

_The Question - September 2018_  
“No. No-no-no-no. No. This is not happening. Not now. Not this year of all years.” Oscar’s pacing his office, prowling around like a panther and Mike actually feels bad for the guy.

It’s a tough place for him to be in, but the fact of the matter is that the Padres are actually in the race to make it to the World Series and their female pitcher is pregnant with her captain’s child. There’s nothing that can be done to change those things. Might as well make the best of them.

“Do you have any idea how horrible this is going to be? The MLB, the Player’s Association--”

“Can’t do anything.” Amelia’s out of her seat like a bullet and Mike’s agent’s rebuttal is stopped before it even has time to begin. “Davis and I have gone through this backward, forward, and all around. There’s technically nothing prohibiting it. Not them being together and not her being pregnant.

“You guys are so guys are so busy being sexist homophobes that the idea of a player getting pregnant or being involved with another play isn’t explicitly addressed. Now there are…” She pauses for a moment, chooses her words carefully, “clauses that could be used to punish them, but I’ve got a plan.”

Oscar is leaning against the window now, pinching the bridge of his nose so hard that Mike can see red spots forming, “I’m listening.”

And here Amelia, gods love her and all her insanity, is in her element. Mike reaches over to take Ginny’s hand and she smiles at him as they settle in for the show.

He can hear Amelia talking about Ginny being punished for being a woman and the league not risking pissing off women by keeping her out of games or other fans by keeping him out, but it’s mostly just background noise. Especially when she moves on to doctor’s recommendations and the fact that other athletes have continued playing while pregnant. He’s heard this all before.

The only thing he’s thinking about is Ginny.

She’s a little over four months along now and it’s starting to show. Her nose is wider, her face a little fuller, but most reporters have either been too scared to comment on it or written it off as weight gain as she tries to build up muscle.

Her hips are fuller too, but he’s only noticed when they’re in bed together, specifically as she’s grinding down on him, chasing an orgasm while his hands clench and unclench at her waist--and he knows no one else has seen that side of her in months.

They don’t talk about their relationship. They don’t talk about the fact that they initially only succumbed to their physical desires to get rid of the tension that was creating a vast chasm between them after their mutual breakups the year before.

They decided early on that they wouldn’t get upset if the other decided to break it off or sleep with someone else--they couldn’t be in a relationship. Not really. Not yet. Not while they were team mates. So they’re friends with benefits with an option to become more upon his retirement.

What a stupid plan that had been.

Ginny’s eyes light up as Amelia hammers home the fact that they probably wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place if the MLB, in all their glory, hadn’t decided that Ginny had to take out her IUD and move to the combination birth control pill leaving her hormonal (and randy, as he quickly found out) and more vulnerable to a possible pregnancy during the changeover.

When Oscar clearly begins to settle into the story that Amelia is weaving, Mike blocks out the conversation completely and focuses on the tiny smiles Ginny has been shooting his way. She’s happier about all of this than he expected her to be, and he’s constantly surprised that people don’t see it.

That thing about pregnant women glowing, for most of his life he’s been pretty sure it’s complete bullshit. He’s known plenty of pregnant women and they’ve never looked bright or shiny to him, but Ginny glows all the fucking time.

He feels her lightly tug on his beard before his brain processes that she’s trying to get his attention and he knows he must have a goofy smile on his face when he fully turns to look at her.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” She whispers it in his ear as their agents and Oscar hammer out the finer details of what will happen next.

“You’re glowing.”

She scrunches up her nose and giggles a little, “Nuh uh.”

“Nuh huh.”

“You tryin’ to say I’m sweaty, Lawson?”

“Nope,” he reaches over and sticks his finger in one of her dimples as she giggles even louder. “Tryin’ to say you’re pretty.”

Like he’s a child, Amelia swats him on his arm to pull their focus back to the conversation, and Oscar’s annoyed look actually has him sitting up at attention. “What’s the answer, Lawson?”

“Sorry. Missed the question.”

“Yeah.” Oscar nods. “We got that. I asked how we’re supposed to answer questions about the status of your relationship.”

And with that he might as well have shoved the Grand Canyon between Mike and Ginny for all the space created.

 ************* 

_The Answer - December 2018_  
“What about this one?” She’s in the tub, bubbles up to her chin on one end, her feet propped up on the edge on the other, and her tummy poking out in the middle.

With her seven months along now, they’ve had to take more precautions with her health. The doctors diagnosed her with preeclampsia at six months, and after they’d finally finished up all the press from announcing the pregnancy and winning the World Series she was immediately put on bed rest that she did her best to get out of as often as possible.

And that’s how her current obsession started. House hunting. They can’t seem to make a decision about what they are to each other or where their relationship is going, but she’s decided that whatever comes next they have to be living in the same house. And not, as she calls it, his fishbowl.

“Hand it here.” He’s sitting in the chair they pulled into the bathroom three weeks before when she became lightheaded in the shower. The rule after that -- the one rule that he laid out -- was that she wasn’t to be in the hot, steamy bathroom alone.

So she takes baths and he sits in the room with her, and they have honest discussions about what comes next. Mostly.

And in the spirit of that honesty, he scoffs and hands the tablet back to her. “No way.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“The house is fine. The neighborhood sucks. As a matter of fact, I’m using my veto power on everything in a ten block radius of that general area.”

“Well that’s bullshit. You can’t just veto whole neighborhoods, Old Man.”

“That’s where Rachel’s brother lives.”

“Oh.” She nods. “Okay. Fifteen block radius vetoed then -- just in case.”

“Damn right.”

“But you look the house though, right? The style and size?”

This one is a Mediterranean-style with five bedrooms, six baths, and a pool. It’s bigger than the other options, but other than that it works for him. “Yeah, I like it. Why the extra rooms though? You’ve been looking for three or four, tops.”

“Oh, that. Um. I just...I mean unless I get traded or something I don’t want to move around. You know, I grew up in just one house and I want that for my family too.”

“Okay.” He nods and leans in. When she gets like this, flustered and cagey, it usually means she’s going to ask for something. “That doesn’t really answer the question, Rookie. Why the extra rooms?”

“You know, just in case.” She’s fidgeting with her hair now. Pulling it up and twisting and turning it in some fascinating style that leaves it all sitting on the top of her head without anything to hold it there. And usually that would have his full attention, but with her arms raised the tops of her breasts down to those gorgeous black cherry nipples make an appearance and his mouth immediately waters at the sight.

She’s so fucking beautiful. He finds himself distracted by her more often than not now and he spends a lot of time thanking whatever deity it is that’s looking out for him that he hadn’t seen her like that before, because he never would have made it through their first season together if he’d been playing with this Ginny.

“Lawson!” There’s humor in the tone of her yell and he snaps back to find her shaking her head and sliding back down into the tub.

“Come on, Gin. Sit back up.”

“Nope. You lose focus too easy these days. They’re just tits. You’ve seen them a million times before.”

“And I’d like to see more of them now.”

“And I’d like you to pay attention to what I’m saying. You can play later.”

“Promises, promises.” And this here, this is the one thing that they’re still good at. When they aren’t sure if they’re in love or what being in love means. When they aren’t sure if being in love is enough to even keep them together anyway, this is always available to fall back on. This sexual tension so thick he feels like he’s wading through it. “So what were we talking about?”

“The house. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I said…” He stops for a moment, replays the conversation back to the point where her wild hair and swollen nipples distracted him. “I said I like it, but why the extra rooms?”

“Oh. That. Um..”

Again, she’s hedging and he hasn’t seen her like this in over a year. This Ginny, two and half baseball seasons in and enough endorsement deals to retire on Ginny, doesn’t have trouble asking for what she wants. So what is this?

He slips out of the chair and moves to sit on the lip of the tub, his knees cracking along the way. When he gets comfortable, he massages the pressure point on her neck that relaxes her and has her leaning into his touch. “What are you thinking? What’s wrong?”

“Um. Babies, actually. I was thinking that I really liked having a brother growing up and Blip says he hated being an only child and, well, you didn’t really have any siblings either...not really. So I just…” She’s rambling now, but he knows she’ll find her point eventually. “I just thought that maybe we might have more than one, that’s all. And I don’t want to have to move unless, you know, we don’t have another option. So, yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

She’s looking up at him now, her wide eyes filled with uncertainty and he can’t figure out why she’d be unsure.

She’s the one who said no to getting married or making any commitment. She’s the one always pointing out that he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. She’s the one who had them sleeping in separate rooms right after Amelia and Oscar decided it was best for them to move in together. All the distance, all the separation, that’s been her choice.

He’s made it very clear that what he wants is her -- that all he’s wanted for a very long time now is her.

“You’re mad.”

“Not mad, Gin. Just...where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know. Ev says I’m nesting or something. Just--just ignore me.”

“No.” He’s moves his hand from her neck to scrub it down his face, and gives his beard a quick tug the way she normally does when she’s trying to calm him down or center his attention on something. It works. “I just...this back and forth is confusing. If you want kids and marriage -- or not marriage, just a commitment -- then I’m here. I’m ready for that. But that isn’t what you’ve wanted. Why now?”

“You did your interview with Rachel last week.”

“Yeah, and…”

“You didn’t look at her like you wanted her, like you missed out on something. I’ve never...that’s the first time I’ve seen you look at her like she’s just an old friend or an ex-wife and not like some perfect angel that you lost. And I thought, maybe...maybe that means you’re over her.”

“I am. I have been. I broke things off with her last year, not the other way around. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I thought that was just because she couldn’t decide what she wanted.”

“It was, in part, but it was also because I realized I didn’t want her. Shit, Gin, if it was just about not wanting to be with someone who is confused about what they want then do you think I’d still be here?”

The laugh she lets loose is harsh and clearly self-deprecating, and that’s not what he wanted. But fuck, she’s made things about a million times harder than they needed to be. “I didn’t mean--”

“You did, and you’re right. I just really don’t want to end up like my parents. They got married right after Will was born and I thought they were happy, but now I’m not sure and I just don’t want that for you or our baby.”

“What about you? What do you want for you?”

“Perfect world?”

“Perfect world.”

“I don’t know. Two kids, a couple more World Series rings, a hot ex-catcher to share my life with. You know, the simple things in life.”

“You asking me to marry you, Baker?” He’s holding his breath. Terrified that they’re going to take another step back after taking one forward.

“No. You have to do the asking. Not now!” She cuts him off, laughing. “But is that--is that what you want?”

“As it turns out,” he leans forward to kiss her on the top of her head, “that’s exactly what I want. Well, not the hot ex-catcher, but a couple more rings for you, a couple kids, and a hot wife. That all sounds pretty good.”

“Yeah? You sure you’re not into a hot ex-catcher? Because Livan will retire eventually and I think you two might be able to make a go of it. I’m pretty sure TMZ thinks you’d make an adorable couple.”

“Nah.” He smiles and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I just can’t deal with the beard he’s been growing out. He looks like he’s trying too hard.”

“Oh, yeah? I think the beard looks sexy.”

“You should, you’re growing one too.” He reaches around to run his fingers across the tiny patch of hair that has taken up residence under her chin and laughs as she scoffs and pulls away.

She runs her hand under her chin and frowns up at him, “You’re an asshole, Lawson. Anyway, the doctor says mine will probably go away after the baby is born. Yours has taken up permanent residence on your stupid face.”

“Probably go away.” He responds. And he really should have thought that through a little better because he doesn’t have the balance to stop her when she reaches around and pulls him into the tub behind her, soaking his pajama bottoms and half his chest.

Instead of moving to get out as she leans forward to give him a little room, he settles in behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. “Well, now that I’m in here,” his fingers dance up over her belly and higher and higher up until he can cup her full breasts in his hands, “let’s revisit that earlier conversation about my concentration.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I struggled with the end of this one a little, but I like the idea of leaving it open ended. I kept thinking I needed to tie it up a little better, but this one was mostly about Mike and Ginny finally coming together and every time I tried to write the birth of the baby or them getting married or anything else further in the future it felt like I was trying too hard to force a "happily ever after" that they hadn't earned yet. Anyway, hope you like it and, again, sorry about the horribly long delay. I'm going to try to do better.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt list is [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1feM0dAW_N10y3V4ai3bCHx5-moFSO7DnPevgWclhsDM/edit). If you'd like to request something from the list or you just want to drop in and say, "hi" then you can visit me at [flutter_bi](http://flutter-bi.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Thanks for reading and reviewing.


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